


Lucky

by Gaqalesqua



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Akande doesn't give the dick if you're covered in rubble, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Banter, Bathing/Washing, Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:36:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: You wake up in better shape than you should be.





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackKisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKisa/gifts).



You came to in a blue-lit room, lying on your front. As the fuzz cleared from your brain, you felt like you should have been suffering a killer headache, but somehow you weren’t. You tried to sit up, and that was when you realised your wrists were bound together behind your back. Squirming, you found your ankles were tied too, and you managed to roll yourself onto your back, heat flushing beneath your skin.

Doomfist was sitting on a couch at the opposite end of the room, a low table in front of him. His brow was raised but his face was otherwise neutral.

“Shit,” you hissed, struggling furiously against your bindings.

“You were lucky.” He seemed unconcerned by your struggling, the corner of his mouth quirking just a little. “Your allies left you for dead. If we hadn’t pulled you out from that rubble, you’d be dead.”

You narrowed your eyes. Rubble?

_The world beneath you shaking and opening up as a deep voice echoed through the streets of Cairo._

“You’re the reason I was buried under that rubble!” you barked, as he stood. His right arm was bare.

“Perhaps. But I did not leave you there, which still means I saved your life,” he said evenly, taking slow steps towards you. You wriggled, trying to roll away from him, but even walking slowly, the man covered ground faster than you could. Just as you rolled onto your front again you felt a hand scoop under your belly and lift you into the air.

Your stomach flipped and you thrashed furiously. You weren’t a damn _parcel!_

“You are lucky I do not drop you,” Doomfist warned, and there was a threat in his voice that was abruptly doing unpleasant warm things to you. Without a second thought, you found yourself lying on a table, staring up at the ceiling.

“What do you want?” you growled, rolling onto your side to face him. He looked unimpressed.

“You are filthy,” he told you. As he reached for you again you tried to roll off the table but his fingers grasped hold of your jumpsuit and held you fast. You cast a quick glance over yourself. He was right. You were caked in dirt. There were bloodstains on your clothes from where you must have been injured before Talon found you.

“So you’re going to give me a bath?” you asked sarcastically. Wait. “Fuck, no you’re not!” you added explosively, panic rushing through you. It was chased by heat as you pictured yourself lying naked and bound in a tub, his big hands cleaning the muck from you.

“Not quite.”

Both hands grabbed hold of your jumpsuit and tore it open. Air caressed your skin and you let out a furious yell as Doomfist ripped your clothes off, piece by piece, working the material out from beneath your bindings until you were naked. You shivered, curling into yourself, wishing your arms weren’t bound behind your back, and tried to cover your breasts with your knees. Undeterred by your attempts, Doomfist grasped your ankles and uncuffed one from the other. You kicked out at him. He caught your foot without looking and held it upright as he cuffed your leg to the table’s, one at a time.

You wrenched at the furniture, throwing yourself back against it. How solid was it? Could it break if you did this enough times? Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

“Fuck you!” you yelled, watching him moving behind you, your head twisting to follow him.

“I would not yell insults if I were you,” he said calmly, securing your arms above your head. You _did_ try to punch him but just like before, he simply held your wrist still as he tied the other down. A pulse of heat rushed through you, pooling in your core.

“And why the fuck not?!” you demanded. “You kidnapped me. You stripped me naked. Fuck knows what else you’re going to do.”

“If I get bored of your attitude, I may just gag you,” he warned.

The urge to tell him where to shove that gag rose in you but the idea of being unable to speak made your skin prickle with fear so you swallowed, watching him pick up a jar. It sounded heavy but he grabbed the handle and lifted it effortlessly, tilting it over you. Water poured from it and splashed warmly over your naked body, covering your neck before he trailed it down your belly and over your legs, one at a time. You started with a yelp, tensing.

Doomfist put the jug down and reached back to grab a cloth. He wiped dirt and blood from your legs and your breath caught at the gentle stroke of the fabric against your sensitive calf. Most of the muck had clung to the suit so it didn’t take long for him to wipe you off below the knee, but, oh _fuck_ , you wished he’d stayed down there, because when the cloth touched your thighs you had to fight to suppress a shiver.

“Sombra says she knows your name,” Doomfist said casually, his eyes on his task. He lifted your hip to wipe up the back of your thigh and skimmed the sensitive junction between thigh and ass. You couldn’t stop the shiver this time, or the sharp breath that escaped you. He didn’t seem to acknowledge either reactions, but his hand moved to your thigh. The cloth wiped across your skin from one hip to the other, skirting your mound. Your heart skipped a beat and you caught yourself picturing his hand between your thighs. Your clit suddenly throbbed for attention and you looked away.

“Nothing to say?”

You looked up to see him staring at you.

“You’ll get bored of my attitude,” you sniped, trying to mask the shakiness of your voice.

The corner of his mouth briefly tugged upward but it was quickly lost as he lifted your hip and wiped the cloth across your ass, squeezing your backside briefly. The soft grope tugged at the skin of your slit and you pressed your lips together, swallowing.

He suddenly loomed over you as the cloth swept up your stomach, swiping over your ribs as though deliberately avoiding your breasts. He wiped your sides and then slowly, slowly up and down your back. Heat bloomed in his wake and your eyes briefly dropped. _Shit_. Your body was reacting to this despite your best wishes.

“You can’t be cold,” you heard Doomfist say, and looked up. His expression was deadpan but his eyes danced with amusement.

“Fuck you,” you growled.

“We’ll get to that later,” he promised, and your stomach flipped, a slick heat pulsing between your thighs as you looked him over. Was that a fold in his pants or his cock pressing against the cloth? He was fucking _huge_. Could you even _take_ him?

You couldn’t help watching the cloth as it skirted up your belly and for a moment you thought he was going to grope you, but he didn’t. Instead he wiped the damp fabric up and down your arms, one at a time. As the cloth skimmed your pulse and the underside of your forearm, your lips parted, a tiny breath escaping you. You hadn’t realised how sensitive that skin was until he’d cleaned it.

He turned away and you swivelled your head to watch him. He squeezed out the cloth into a bowl and tossed it aside, picking up another from behind where he’d set the jug and wetting it. He moved behind you, and then the warm, damp cloth was wiping your face clean. You felt your lashes flutter at the gentle, soothing strokes over your cheekbones, your eyes closing as you let him swipe along them. After all, wasn’t much point in suffering a cloth poking you in the eye.

“Is there a point to this?” you asked. He moved the cloth to your neck and you stilled as he worked circles into the skin there, removing whatever dirt had been left there. The strength in his hands was tangible and you tried to quell the fear that he wanted to strangle you. He’d have done that earlier if he wanted to, surely.

Unless he was into strangling naked women who were tied to coffee tables.

Oh _god_ , what if he _was_? He _was_ Akande Ogundimu, after all. Some rich people had more money than sense and the _weirdest_ kinks.

But the cloth moved down to your clavicle and you could still breathe – albeit heavier, because as he wiped you clean, you caught sight of your breasts. Your erect nipples were practically begging for him to touch them and you pressed your lips together as he wiped down your sternum.

He pulled away, and again you watched him replacing the cloth. _Fuck_ , you actually _wanted_ him to finish this off. Right now, the ache between your thighs was maddening.

You stifled a moan when he finally lowered the fabric to your breasts, covering both and cupping them with his huge hands. You clamped down on the urge to part your thighs wide for him as he dragged the fabric over the soft flesh, rubbing against the nipple. The ache became a tightness. _Fuck_ , you wanted… _ugh_ , you wanted him to touch you. It was wrong. You shouldn’t.

But here you were, picturing his thick fingers pushing into you as you watched his hands cup and grope your breasts. Your thighs tensed.

“I a-asked if there was a-a point to this,” you said, your voice wavering. The cloth was moved away and Doomfist began idly playing with your breasts, flicking a nipple, gently rolling it between finger and thumb.

“I will not have a woman who is coated in filth,” he told you, his eyes fixed on the curves he had cupped in his palms. “That is all.”

“A-and…the…”

Abruptly, he let you go, shifting down your body and seating himself between your thighs. Oh _fuck_. You had to stop yourself from whimpering as he slid the cloth down your belly and finally, _finally_ , touched your mound. The fabric dragged over your clit, slipped against your folds, and your head tossed back as you forced your hips to stay still. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of-

Hands cupped your ass and lifted your hips until you were almost pulling at your restraints. You watched him lean closer to you. His breath washed over the sensitive folds and your stomach flipped. Your eyes widened. And then you were arching off the table as his tongue lapped broadly from base to clit. A yelped _‘fuck!’_ filled the air and you realised that you were the source.

You briefly wished he _had_ gagged you now. It would’ve muffled the whimpers that escaped you as Doomfist lapped at you, the same long, broad stroke that ended at your clit before he swirled the wet muscle around the nub. The pressure was just enough that your hips started to rock in his grip and you couldn’t stop yourself.

The gentle strokes of the cloth had riled you up more than you thought. Your skin seemed to tingle as his fingers spread across it and you wriggled in his grip, shushing the part of you that wanted his hands back on your breasts. This was _Doomfist_. He was your _enemy_ and oh _fuck_ he was eating you out in a way that was making your fucking _toes_ curl. His lips sucked on you and another helpless yelp left you as he alternated between sucking and flicking your clit. Tugging furiously on your restraints, your hips bucked and rolled.

You could just about bury your face in your arm and you did so, trying to escape the sight of him between your thighs. Not that it helped much. The sight of his tongue slipping out between his lips to lap at your nub was stuck in your head. Even if you got away, the chances of you ever _forgetti-_

His thumbs slid over your mound and spread open your lips to expose your clit. A shudder rocked your body and your thighs tensed as a coil of pleasure grew with each lick. You heard him make a thoughtful hum and whined.

Both hands suddenly left you and your ass was pressed against the coffee table. It didn’t last long. Two huge fingers spread you open as his middle finger pressed against your slit. In a motion so smooth you felt ashamed, he slid it into your slit, a gentle _slick_ noise reaching your ears. The other hand slid over your belly and cupped a breast. And then his tongue was running over you again and you let out a winded gasp.

His finger didn’t fuck you. He rubbed it against your upper wall and you jerked off the table like you’d been shot as liquid pleasure rushed through your body and focused on a spot that he caught. His hand rolled a nipple between finger and thumb and rubbed fingertips over the swell of your breast as he sucked on your clit and ground his finger against that spot.

Your vision blurred. Heat rushed through your body. And with a scream that you tried to muffle in your arm, you came, shaking. Your hips writhed beneath him and he pinned you down with a single hand to lap up the slick that leaked from you. The soft touch of his tongue was too much now but he didn’t stop. You sucked in air but you were winded from coming. The sound of your breathing was too loud. You felt ashamed but _oh_ , as his finger kept rubbing that spot it was difficult to feel anything other than _sensitive_.

Your skin twitched beneath his hands as he pulled his finger out of you. Your panting was too noisy in your ears. You could hear him rustling around as he moved. Your limbs felt like jelly.

Which must have been his plan, because he uncuffed your arms and legs whilst you were recovering, rolling you onto your stomach and securing your legs to the table again. Your arms slipped behind your back and were caught there. Head thudding against the wood, you expected him to press his cock against your slit and slide in immediately but he didn’t. Hell, he pushed away from you and stood. Your view was limited and it hurt to crane your head over your shoulder for too long, so you found yourself stuck there, listening to glass clinking and Doomfist moving around.

Fuck, what _was_ he doing?

“So what’s next?” you asked, your breath still laboured. He was silent for a few moments, and then he returned. You felt him kneel behind you and your breath caught.

“I would think that was obvious,” he said. A thick finger ran down your slit and you let out a soft gasp, jerking against the restraints in your attempts to clamp your thighs shut. A fingertip rubbed circles against your clit and sharp keening noises filled the air.

“You’re going to fuck me?”

“Of course. You are ready for me, after all.”

 _Ready_. You remembered the bulge in his pants and wondered if you would ever be ready for _that_. Not that it mattered. You heard a cork pulling out of glass and tried to crane your head back, just in time for a warm, viscous liquid to drizzle over your ass. Still stroking your clit, Doomfist put down the bottle by your hip and began to work the oil against the ring of muscle. You tensed, but he stroked the nub a little harder and you couldn’t keep your muscles bunched under the slow onslaught of stimulation.

“A-are you serious?” you demanded. It didn’t sound quite as threatening as you’d hoped. You did _not_ want Doomfist putting _anything_ in your ass but once again, you didn’t seem to have a choice.

The hand rubbing your clit left you. You heard the rustle of cloth. A moment later, something hot and slick pressed against your lower lips.

“Do you think I’m joking?” he asked evenly. His hips rolled and the tip of his cock rubbed against your clit. You whimpered the word _‘fuck’_ and your fists clenched. His other hand was still making circles against your ass. You could feel him gripping himself and pushing his cock against your opening. Words failed you as you briefly tried to work out just how big he was based on what was pressing against your folds.

He didn’t give you the chance.

He nudged his cock into you and you lost your breath as the tip spread you open, the slick between your thighs mixing with the precome coating the thick head. He slipped slowly into you, easing forward. Choked sobs escaped your lips as he shifted back a little and then pressed in deeper, slowly working himself into you. All the while his fingertip made circles around your clit, still pushing another finger deep into your ass. The pressure of both his cock and his finger inside you was so _alien_. And despite the stretch and burn of him languidly pushing into you, it felt _good_.

 _“Fuck,”_ you whimpered again, your head dropping. Your hands twisted in their bindings as you tried to push them down and hit the finger probing your ass, but he’d tied you in some way that made it impossible to move them from where they were, tucked up against your back.

“I was expecting a little more fight from you,” there was the slightest hint of breathlessness to his voice as he slowly slipped into to you, hips pressing against your rear, “but I’m not surprised you let me take you so easily.”

“Fuck _you_ ,” you panted.

“Pathetically valiant effort.” He gripped your hip with one hand and continued to slowly slide his finger in and out of your ass. Was he letting you adjust to the size of him? It seemed to be the case. You didn’t like that idea. If he was letting you adjust, then…shit, how rough was he planning on being?!

He returned to the gentle circles against your clit that were slowly growing firmer and despite your best attempts, you felt your hips push against his, seeking the pleasurable friction even as you knew you shouldn’t. Doomfist’s body rolled against yours and you _squeaked_ as his thick cock dragged against your walls. With the size he was, it didn’t surprise you that the thrust rubbed your sweet spot and heated rushed through you. Your thighs tensed and his finger sunk deeper into your ass. The most noise Doomfist made as he rocked into you once more was a short puff of breath and you wanted to yell at how _unfair_ that was. Fuck, here he was, his fingers still rubbing your clit as your mouth hung open, cock buried in you to the hilt, a finger almost to the knuckle in your rear.

And he sounded as though he’d gone for a light job. Ten minutes ago.

“You sound ready,” he murmured. Cold fear lanced through you as he slid his fingers back to your hip and briefly squeezed your ass. “You should be honoured, Overwatch. I chose you specifically.”

“H-hard to f-feel… _ahhh_ …honoured when…you’re…”

He rubbed your clit a little harder and your legs shook, your cheek pressing against the cool table. Your hands twisted in their bindings again and felt Doomfist lean in, arching over you.

“I chose you for your looks,” he continued, as though you hadn’t spoken. “Your eyes. Your _fight_.” His finger finally slid in to the knuckle and your back arched. “So I’m a little disappointed just how _little_ you fought, girl.”

“S-sorry to- ahhh- disap-point!” you gasped, as his hips rocked again.

“Perhaps it is my own fault,” you felt the gentle impact of his body meeting yours, a _slap_ filling the air. “Perhaps I’m just too good at breaking you.”

“B-breaking?!” you demanded, trying to crane your head round to glare at him. Your hips wriggled. The softest moan escaped him. “I-I’m not- _nnn-_ ” you had to break off to pant out a few little noises as his cock stroked your walls, “ _broken._ ”

His fingertips ran over your ass, slow and gentle. The skin tingled with heat in his wake, and you held your breath for a moment at the strange, pleasant sensation. Then his palm cracked against your ass, stinging pain shooting through you, and a yelp filled the room.

“No?” he asked, thrusting a little harder. Your eyes squeezed shut as each stroke ground into your sweet spot and began coiling between your thighs. “When did you last give me a fight, naked girl? You’re whimpering and crying out for me and all I did was make you cum once.”

“You-!”

Writhing and tugging at your restraints in your fury, you found yourself working your hips back and forth with his thrusts as you wrenched at the ties around your wrists and pulled at the table legs. Doomfist let out the smallest laugh, letting the finger in your ass rub a little faster, a little harder. He seemed to have leaned closer because you could hear his breathing closer now. It was heavier than before and you kept rocking your body into his to force this man to damn well lose his composure.

“That’s the fight I wanted,” you heard him groan, running his fingers over the swell of your ass. You hissed as the rough pads stroked over an undoubtedly bruised hand-print on the flesh and instead he skimmed his palm up your back, gripping your hands. He pulled you up so you were staring at the blank wall in front of you and you yelped again as the new position forced his thrusts harder against your sweet spot.

“Fuck _you_ ,” you hissed, panting. Doomfist withdrew his finger from your ass and you felt him lean back, still fucking you, and a moment later his other hand, now clean, slipped around the back of your neck, anchoring in your hair to keep your head back.

“Do you want to know what I have planned for you, Overwatch?” he asked, his voice uneven. “Or do you want a surprise?”

“Oh get _fu-u-uh-!_ ”

Your voice _broke_ as Doomfist moved his hand from your arms to your clit and began making rapid little circles. For a moment, you lost the ability to breathe, shaking and wriggling in his grip as you desperately sucked in air, and then you cried out. The tension that had been coiling began threatening to unravel as those rough fingers worked you into a frenzy, forcing you to buck against his cock.

“No, no, _no_ ,” you whimpered, your thighs straining against your bindings as you tried to force them closed and stop him from making you cum again. But there was no chance and you knew it.

And _shit_ , something about this whole scenario making you helpless to him…

You tumbled over into orgasm. It rushed over you and forced a cry from your lips, your hips wriggling as Doomfist’s finger kept rubbing. Your vision blurred. The wave of heat and pleasure made you boneless and you would have slumped without his hand keeping you upright. Muscles useless, you were helpless to stop him as his body began rutting harder against yours.

You felt your eyes widen, your lips pulling back. The sensation of him thrusting against your walls was uncomfortable, intense, with an undercurrent of _too much_ even though it was still pleasurable. Unbidden, distressed cries filled the room and you tried once more to pull away from him but Doomfist’s hands grabbed your hips, letting you lean against the table. You could hear him grunting behind you, a soft, constant sound, _‘ah, ah, ah,’_ irritatingly dim. You wanted him to lose it but you knew there was no way you were going to be able to get him while your body was like _this._

“How does it feel?” and this time his voice was breathless.

“Ah!” was all you could whimper out as he kept driving his cock into your sweet spot, holding your hips tight.

“I can…feel you. _Shaking_. You want…you want to stop,” he paused to take a breath and you clenched your fists as he squeezed your ass, “don’t you?”

All you could do was nod your head feverishly. The feeling of him rubbing up against you was only just starting to become pleasurable again instead of _no, too much, don’t touch_ , but you wanted him to lose his cool, to hear him panting.

“I will still get my satisfaction,” he seemed to be slowing down, “but if not here,” he slipped a hand down to stroke your clit and you jerked, “then I will take it elsewhere.”

“H-wha…” you tried to ask. Doomfist slipped out of you and you could _hear_ the wet noise as the tip left your slit. Oh god. Your face burned at the knowledge that _Doomfist_ had done this to you, _Doomfist_ had made you this wet. Fuck, he’d made you _cum_ , _twice_.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, standing. Your mouth dropped open anyway just at the implication. Was he…? No, _fuck_ no, there was no way in hell that man would fit in your mouth.

“You’ll kill me,” you protested breathlessly as he stepped round the table and got on his knees. His hands slipped into your hair and you gazed down at the wet cockhead hovering at your lips, trepidation rushing through you.

“You better breathe deep, Overwatch.”

The tip of him pressed against your lips and you didn’t dare bite down or bar entry. The taste of yourself filled your mouth as the hot, velvet length of him slipped an inch, then two, into your mouth. You took a deep breath through your nose as you heard a small moan escape him. Your eyes narrowed. That desire to force his composure to break came back in full force. Your tongue swept out across the thick tip and a sharp gasp escaped him. You couldn’t grin in this situation but it didn’t matter. You immediately began lapping at him, using what space you had to find the most sensitive part of his cock as he tried to slide a little deeper into your mouth.

The tip of your tongue caressed the ridge below the head and this time, a low moan filled the room. You couldn’t help responding with a groan of your own as the deep, velvety noise met your ears. You managed to flick your eyes up. His face was mostly composed, so you sucked a little and watched his brows crease, his eyes closing a little.

He pressed in a little further and you choked. Frowning, he pulled back until you could breathe again. A huge hand wrapped around the part of him not caught between your lips.

“I said breathe.” A hand pulled a little tighter on your hair, just shy of painful. “Looks like there are things I need to train you at. No matter.”

What the hell did _that_ mean?! Hell, you weren’t sure you wanted to know. You watched, felt, as Doomfist’s hips drew back, his hand pressing forward, the motions moving in the opposite direction. As his cock filled your mouth to what you could take, his fist drew down towards the base. When he slipped himself out of you to the tip, the closed palm moved upwards, towards your lips. Oh, fucking hell, he was literally using you to jerk off and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Just remember,” his voice was uneven now and you wanted to savour it, but your eyes were busy watching his hand jack up and down his length, “you told me to stop when I was in you.”

You found yourself bobbing your head a little, letting your lips work him over. Half of it was wanting to hear that deep voice crack as he came. The other half was fear that he might do… _something_ …if you didn’t do what he wanted and help get him off. You could feel the ache in your jaw as he used your mouth. There was a salty taste that got stronger, seemingly with each pump of his hips. It was as his laboured breathing filled the room that oh, _fuck_ , you realised that was the taste of his cum.

Your tongue dipped into the slit at the top of his cock. He moaned loudly, his eyes closing. You let the tip of it tease the opening, and the hand in your hair shook a little, another moan filling the room. Did you want to get him off as quickly as possible or make him lose it? You honestly weren’t sure if there was much between the two options at this point. And Doomfist didn’t seem too far off spilling. You could feel him starting to twitch on your tongue, his fist jerking faster. The salt tang got stronger.

And then with a loud growl, the man in your mouth came. He filled you, and just before you worried about choking, he pulled out. His hand was still jerking and you were about to wonder why when something hot, wet and ropey hit your cheek, your forehead. It dripped down your face as you gasped and then hurriedly swallowed to stop the mess in your mouth from dripping all over the floor. Fury rushed through you at the realisation.

“HEY!” you snapped, your voice breathless and slightly croaky. “Fuck you! How dare you! Get fucked-”

Doomfist’s hand covered your mouth and gripped your cheeks. “I was going to get my satisfaction from you,” he reminded you. “You just told me where I _couldn’t_ have it. Today, anyway. Tomorrow, I might decide to just do what I like, since your mouth can’t take me.”

“Overwatch will come find me,” but your words came out muffled and slurred through his fingers. Doomfist just laughed at you.

“If Overwatch finds you, you’ll be lucky.”


End file.
